


The Blue in Your Eyes

by the-canary (siruru)



Category: The Bronze (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Christmas Party, Dancing, Denial of Feelings, Dress Up, F/M, Feelings Realization, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Reader-Insert, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 15:31:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16956639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siruru/pseuds/the-canary
Summary: This was supposed to be a simple business dinner, not a “hey, let’s realize all those bottled up emotions for what they really are” sort of night.





	The Blue in Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> This is for @delicatelyherdreams ‘s 1k challenge. i am sorry if this is all kinds of awful ;A; sort of based of this drabble, but it sounded so much better in my head. hopefully, you’ll enjoy it, maybe? 
> 
> Prompt: “Where are your clothes?”

It had been awhile since Lance had last seen what with your busy schedules never quite matching up, so it was nice to see you --in your black dress and heels-- looking through his closet, though he doesn’t know exactly why, as he watches your shapely legs move back and forth as you push each article of clothing. You let out a annoyed him before turning towards the man sitting on the edge of his bed.    

“Lance,” you asked, clearly in a mixed of confused and slightly terrified, “ _ where are your clothes _ ?” 

“What do you mean?” he questions back, while motioning towards his huge walk in closet full of red, white, and blue,  ‘They’re all right there.”

“No, like regular person clothes like shirts and jeans,” you groan out, “Not a personified USA Olympics Committee poster.”  

 

Lance pauses and gives you a serious look. It’s not like you’re lying, but it was part of his job through Tucker Gymnastics -- he had to show that he was ready 24/7 in order to discipline and motivate those rowdy girls training under his tutelage. He just didn’t think it had taken up so much of his time. Yes, Lance Tucker was the the God of Gymnastics, but he still had something to prove after everything went down the hill with Townsend, he just hadn’t realized that it had taken up so much of his time as a result. 

Lance couldn’t even remember the last time he had gone out or even banged a chick, and that was saying something. Or, it could have something to do with the smiling and teasing best friend that came to check up on him every once and awhile.     

“God, Tuck,” you can’t help but remark, as blue eyes widen, “You’re starting to look like Hope Ann Gregory.” 

It wasn’t that he had let himself go or that the years had treated him unwell, it was quite the opposite but he didn’t have anything to wear besides tracksuits and sweats, and a lovely an imagine as that could paint (besides part time old-timey mobster from  _ the Sopranos _ ) -- it wasn’t what you needed him for at the moment. 

“Hey, now that’s going too far,” Lance exclaims while standing up, “Why are you asking for anyways?” 

“I need a date,” you explain more desperately than before,“For this huge business gala at my workplace. I don’t want Jonas breathing down my neck another year in a row.”

“So, I’m playing the arm candy?” Lance questions, because he knows who Jonas is --some creep who liked making remarks under his breath during meetings and enjoyed looking at you too much-- and if you needed him for the night Lance was sure as hell going to be there.  

“A part I think you know perfectly well, Lance,” you remark with a smile, as you pat his chest as if it was something that he should be very proud of. 

Lance shakes his head, as he grabs your shoulders with complete seriousness in his blue eyes and you try your hardest not to drown in them for the moment. 

“Anything you need from me,” Lance gives you that pearly white smile, “You know, I’d do anything for my best friend.” 

“Thanks, Tuck,” you waver for just a second before smiling once more,”That means I need you to go to my tailor though.”

* * *

 

_ “So, do you have a date for tonight?...You know, I could always--” _

_ “As a matter of fact, I do… before you get another harassment claim placed against you, Jonas.”   _

* * *

 

If someone had told Lance Tucker a few years back that the girl he had found in the back of the university library spouting off nutritional facts for her exams, with glasses and badly kept hair, would be taking him to a business gala and dressing him to the nines -- well, he wouldn’t believe you. But, here he was being dressed by a beautiful blond woman, who was taking his measurements to make sure that everything was in line. 

Yes, it was something that he was used to from his Olympics win circuit and brief stunt as a minor celebrity, but now it took some adjusting to. However, that didn’t stop him from throwing a flirty smile her way every once and awhile, though she just seems to ignore him. It isn’t until the end, when Lance is looking at himself in the form-fitting blue tux that the woman finally speaks. 

“You must be really proud of your girlfriend,” the blonde --Cameron, if he remembers correctly-- gives him a tight smile as Lance has to stop admiring himself for a minute to look at her, “You know her prize?”

“What do you mean?” Lance can’t help but ask, as he seems a little miffed that this woman might know something about you that he didn’t -- you practically lived in each other’s pockets, though it had taken Lance a long time to realize why.

“The whole big gala is for her,” she flicks her hair to the side of her face, rings and jewelry shining in the enclosed light, “Found some big research breakthrough that is just bringing in the cash. You should be very proud of her.”   

“I didn’t know,” Lance murmurs, a little lost as Cameron nods as if understanding his situation -- as if she knew what was going on between the two of you. 

“Well, now might be the night to do something about it,” she smiles and nods at her own suggestion, “You never what might come of it.”

She laughs, leaving Lance dumbfounded, before going to find him a matching tie in the back.

* * *

 

To Lance, even after all this time, it was strange how a little makeup and a change in clothing could make or break a person. The gymnasts that he used to compete alongside, like Gregory, could make themselves look way younger than they were when they wanted too and the gals that he picked up at clubs for a quick affair could be beautiful the whole night and could then look like something from the Creep Show in the morning. He knew how it all worked -- the moisturizing, the foundation, finding the perfect shade was all hard work and he commended everyone who took the time to do, even he took a lengthy routine to keep his skin soft and fresh. 

But, you -- you were something else completely.

“Hey,” you pause staring at the man with a concerned look, “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” Lance shakes his head, as you nod before going back to give your makeup once last checkup in his apartment bathroom. 

You were wearing a lace, that covered your arms and legs completely, dressed with a thicker but still soft material underneath that clung to your body -- all of it what the same shade of blue that complimented Lance’s suit. Your makeup was simple, but it highlighted all your best features as your hair was placed in a hair-do that he had never seen on you before. Lance was captivated as you gave him a smile -- you looked like a goddamn dream. 

Lance was perfection as well, what with his gelled back hair and  [ tailor trimmed DKNY blue suit  ](https://www.macys.com/shop/product/dkny-mens-modern-fit-stretch-textured-suit-jacket?ID=5600608&pla_country=US&CAGPSPN=pla&CAWELAID=120156340022348243&CAAGID=67107536784&CATCI=aud-374536321149:pla-501256090524&cm_mmc=Google_Mens_PLA-_-Crealytics-Camato-Menswear-Designer-GS-Desktop_dkny_-_mens_%26_blazers/sportcoats-_-302011342492-_-pg1050765035_c_kclickid_b63af256-0c20-4da5-8664-590cf9200688_KID_EMPTY_1592639510_67107536784_302011342492_aud-374536321149:pla-501256090524_627729956182USA__c_KID_&trackingid=403x1050765035&lsft=cm_mmc:Google_Mens_PLA-_-Crealytics-Camato-Menswear-Designer-GS-Desktop_dkny%20-%20mens%20%26%20blazers/sportcoats-_-302011342492-_-pg1050765035_c_kclickid_b63af256-0c20-4da5-8664-590cf9200688_KID_413_1592639510_67107536784_302011342492_aud-374536321149:pla-501256090524_627729956182USA_%7Bfeetitemid%7D_c_KID_,trackingid:403x1050765035&gclid=Cj0KCQiArqPgBRCRARIsAPwlHoUPTCOUs8Q5r3wX0kDG3t9s_PDZrWzMKTxEpay83eH53i2j2MiWr6EaAhtmEALw_wcB) and jacket. However, tonight wasn’t about him. 

“Are you ready?” he asks, watching you put your compact mirror bag in your small shell-blue bag before turning to look at him with one last heart throbbing bat of your eyes.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you state with as nervous smile, as Lance takes your hand and takes your to his car in the underground parking. 

Lance wasn’t sure how he was going to survive tonight.

* * *

 

Le Table Houston’s  [ Paris Room  ](https://latablehouston.com/private-dining/) was beautiful as you moved from table to table talking to familiar faces and trying to form new contacts, however your eyes were on something else. Lance talking to a large group not too far away from you -- they had quickly realized who he was and were asking him everything they could about his old life and some others things that you didn’t want to listening to -- by now, you sort of knew what was the end result to all this. 

Maybe, you were going to have to carshare it back home. Your smile drops for a moment at the thought, as fate seems to want to laugh at you at the moment, as you feel a pair of eyes on you -- only to be meet with the last person that you wanted to greet tonight. 

“Well, didn’t you glam up nicely,” Jonas gives you an unsavory smile, as you try your best to ignore him. 

However, it doesn’t stop the wandering hand that swoops around your waist, only for it to halt suddenly. 

“I think it’s best kindly back off from my date,” you turn to see Lance giving the man that cocky ass grin that dared him to try something else. Jonas scoffs while pulling his hand away and leaving without say another word, clearly knowing what would happened if he was the one causing the scene and not the other way around.  

“Thanks Lance,” you sigh at, already annoyed and over with all this, as you see the man pulling you in closer to him,“You’re a lifesaver.”

“Gotta protect the goods tonight,” he states with a laugh makes his eyes crinkle for just a second, and if he is trying to make you feel better -- he certainly manages to, as you laugh and take your seat with him for the rest of the night.

He doesn’t leave your side for a second for the rest of the event. 

* * *

The last shot to his heart comes near the end of the event, when you are standing there -- smiling and holding a small plaque. Everyone’s attention is on you, and as much as that would bother Lance Tucker any other time, seeing you beaming there captivates him completely.

Your supervisor asks you to thank someone, somebody you couldn’t do this all without.  You stumble for a moment, not used to talking out-loud or with a prepared speech -- something he has down to an art-- but what you say sends his heart into overdrive and his mind completely blanking out on him. 

> _ “Lance,” you state pointing him out for everyone to see,”He’s my best friend and my rock. He lets me talk to him about things that go over his head sometimes, but he never lets me forget to take a break. He’s just the best.” _

It’s in that moment that Lance realizes what you actually mean to him, and as you look at him with that smiling face and bright eyes, he can’t help but wonder if there is more to your little speech. 

However, there is time to think about that later. 

* * *

“Okay, okay,” Lance declares as he enters your little apartment, “ _ where are your comfortable clothes? _ ”

“What do you mean?” you can’t help but ask as he takes of his suit jacket and tie, only for him to roll up the sleeves to his white shirt. You are dumbfounded for a moment, as he smiles. 

“I’m not seriously leaving without celebrating,” he remarks, reminding you of that one time you called him in the middle of the night after he had won his first silver, than gold and how you wouldn't hang up until he shared a cup with you -- even though there were dozens of other people waiting for him on the other side of the door. And while, this wasn’t the Olympics, he was certainly starting to make you feel like it was some version of it. 

You laugh, telling him to wait as your disappear in your room. Lance makes quick work of everything, as he brings out the snacks and  [ soft familiar tone ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uzTbbbtpk4g) begins to play. You pause in the junction between the living room and the hallway to stare at him, in awe, doing so much for you. His gelled back hair starting to get puffier in the process, as he seems to be humming along to the song. 

“Seriously, what’s wrong with you?” you can’t help but laugh, as the man in question turns around. He takes you in a bit more than usually, though this time you are wearing your usual sleepwear, as you keep that smile on your face. 

“It’s like you said,” he states off slowly and deliberate, so unlike the Lance Tucker you usually see, “I’m just trying to remind you to take a break.” 

However, before you can question him any further, he comes rushing towards you -- swinging you around the room for the moment before making you dance to the rest of the song. The rest of the night is spent stuffing your faces, to a certain extent, with sweets and catching up on old movies the both of you have been meaning to see.

But, in this moment with Sinatra blasting in the room and Lance grinning like he owns the world --- if you notice a flicker of a chance in those old blue eyes of his, well you decide not to say anything of it -- at least not for now.


End file.
